Ten Guns, Two Roses
by Fuujin Kishukaze
Summary: In an alternate timeline, Wolfwood sends Vash to face Chapel instead of facing his uncle himself. What good can come of this small change in fate?
1. Schism

Ten Guns, Two Roses  
Prologue - Schism  
Author's Note: My first attempt at a long Trigun fic (though I've written one or two short ones). ^_^ Anyway, I'm going to take a moment to explain a couple of things to you. First of all, I don't own Trigun... shiny important Japanese men on the other hand do... and in an attempt not to be sued by them, I'm telling you this. Second, this prologue is somewhat of a recap of Episode 23, so if you haven't seen that episode or the episodes after that one, don't read this fic. Third, and finally, this is an alternate universe fic, in which instead of fighting his uncle (Chapel the Evergreen) Nick goes up against the other Gung-Ho Gun from this episode, Kaine the Longshot. What happens from that point on, fails to follow the original Trigun timeline... hence the AU. Anyway, enough ranting, enjoy. Oh, and please R&R.  
  
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"Don't talk about it anymore!" the black-haired priest known as Nicholas Wolfwood demanded sharply. He wasn't in the mood to listen to any more of his companion's apologies, and if he was going to do what Knives had ordered him to do - if he was going to kill Vash - he couldn't let the spiky-haired male make him soft. In a fluid movement, Wolfwood unsnapped the fabric that encased the Cross Punisher and pointed the machine gun end at The Stampede. "The way we live is too different. That's our fate, you and I. That one-on-one from ages ago will be settled now."  
  
A strange mixture of surprise, confusion, and hurt crossed Vash's pale features. "Why?" he asked softly.  
  
Wolfwood's gun did not waver, though his resolve did. Was this right? Could he kill the man who had become the closest thing to a best friend he had ever had? He had to. Not for himself but for the children that Knives had made clear wouldn't be safe otherwise. "If I tell you, will you be willing to die? Draw your gun!" Pausing for a brief second so that Vash could reach for his weapon, it soon became clear that the spiky-haired male wasn't going to. Nick's eyes narrowed vaguely, and he shouted once more, "Draw it!" In an attempt to punctuate his sentence, Wolfwood fired a single shot that grazed the side of Vash's head.  
  
Vash, however, still did not reach for the silver six-shooter at his side. Instead, he replied, "It doesn't matter if you kill me, but do listen to my request."  
  
"What?"  
  
"After this has ended, don't kill anymore," the red-clad male responded.  
  
Lowering his head ever so slightly, Wolfwood asked, "Then, you would be willing to draw your gun?" Vash shook his head sharply. Nick was becoming exasperated - then what the hell -did- Vash want. Deciding upon asking him, Wolfwood inquired, "Then what do you want to do under these circumstances?"  
  
The Stampede lowered his own head, though where Wolfwood's was in partial shame, Vash's was in though. "I don't know."  
  
"I have something to ask you. What are you going to do after you meet Knives?" the dark-haired priest asked through clenched teeth.  
  
"He took away the most important person to me."  
  
Wolfwood felt his rage growing; that wasn't an answer, but he was still determined to get something out of his companion. "Revenge?"  
  
Almost sad turquoise eyes regarded Wolfwood for a second, before their owner replied, "I don't know."  
  
A moment of silence passed between the two, and in that moment Wolfwood realized he couldn't do it. Vash had become his friend, and the priest had saved his life on several occasions. That being said, Nick knew that he couldn't end the life of the one he had protected. "I see...since you have decided to live on like this...since you have chosen to walk this path..."   
  
Fighting back the urge to shake his head, the priest lowered his weapon. "Really," he started, eyes closed. Then opening his eyes, Wolfwood smiled; it was a wonderful feeling when one made the right decision. "You really make me angry."  
  
"Wolfwood," Vash began, but the sentence was never finished. Instead, before either male knew it, the dark-haired priest was standing beside Vash, the Cross Punisher at the red-clad gunman's temple in a blocking position. It was then that realization snapped back in, and the sound of a bullet hitting the metal of the cross-shaped weapon resounded.   
  
* Another save, Tongari, * Wolfwood told himself silently before crying out, "Hide, quickly!" Vash didn't need to be told twice, and he dashed smartly into a bar, Nick on his heels.  
  
The second they entered, another shot took off more than half of a table they had just passed. Stopping Vash dashed back to it, to take a look, fear masked by the yellow sunglasses he wore. "Where are they coming from?"  
  
"The country," Wolfwood replied, pressing himself to the wall closest to the door, as he attempted to get a better look outside without exposing himself to the gunman. "I think he's outside the city, using a long range silence gun." There was a moment's pause and then the priest added, "There's another person as well."  
  
"What?"  
  
Continuing to gaze out the bar's swinging doors, Wolfwood responded, "I'll take care of the one out there - you'd never be able to find him. You get the other one." Turing casually in Vash's direction among the chaos, Wolfwood added suddenly, "'Vash the Stampede' isn't your real name, is it? Could you tell me your real name?"  
  
"No way," he responded, closing his eyes tightly. "You're trying to threaten me into giving you a present, right?"  
  
A laugh almost overtook Wolfwood's response. "I won't do that. Come on, tell me."  
  
"It's not necessary," Vash said, an intimate look passing through his eyes, "between us."  
  
Nick's response was a smile and a small laugh, and then he was gone out of the bar to seek the one who had been firing at them from afar. If the priest had known what would happen to Vash in his fight with Chapel the Evergreen... if he knew that Vash was going to die, he would have gone himself, and left Kaine the Longshot for the red-clad gunman. But he didn't know, just as the Nicholas Wolfwood of another reality didn't know his battle with Chapel would get him killed just as Vash was going to...  
  



	2. Death in the Family

Ten Guns, Two Roses  
Chapter 1 - Death in the Family  
Author's Note: Ooh. Here we go into the actual plot of the storyline. Please forgive me for the shoddy writing of someone's death (who, you'll have to read and find out), but I didn't want to draw it out too long. Oh, and if I write Legato to terribly OOC, please forgive me - I don't think I know enough about him to write him correctly.  
  
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Turquoise eyes regarded the spot where Wolfwood had been standing in confusion. What had gotten into Nick? First he was attacking him, then saving his life from a mysterious gunshot, and then knowing a little too much about what they were up against. Well, that was assuming the priest was right about their foes... and Vash seriously doubted that, since there didn't appear to be anyone else even though Nick said there had been. Frowning faintly, Vash scolded himself for mistrusting his friend; if Wolfwood said there was someone else, then there was, and it didn't matter how the priest knew that.  
  
"Ah, Vash the Stampede," a voice - or more specifically, the voice of the 'other' Wolfwood was referring to - cut the spiky-haired male's thoughts.  
  
Spinning on his heels, Vash cursed himself silently for loosing his mind in thought and allowing the enemy to sneak up on him. "And you are?" the gunman asked, half-attempting to stall for time to assess his enemy.   
  
"Chapel the Evergreen," the large-eyed man replied simply, leaning on a metal cross that looked too much like Wolfwood's Cross Punisher for Vash's comfort. "A member of the Gung-Ho Guns." Taking his cross, the newly introduced Gung-Ho Gun separated the metal weapon into two guns, and leveled them both at Vash's chest with ease.  
  
Vash nodded somewhat carelessly, as if it didn't concern him who his assailant was or how many guns were trained on him. Instead, the spiky-haired male was very concerned, but he had long before this fight learned to hide his true emotions behind a mask so that his enemies didn't know his thoughts. And so that he could walk into battle with a relatively clear head.  
  
His cool manner, however, only happened to upset the black-clad Gung-Ho Gun. "You hesitate... just like I trained Wolfwood never to do," Chapel said casually, trying to hit a nerve with Vash. It didn't work though. Vash stood calmly, almost impassively, before his enemy and said nothing. And that was like fuel on the fire that was Chapel's growing rage. "Don't you care that your friend was trained by your enemy?"  
  
The Stampede shook his head once, sharply, as he had done earlier when Wolfwood had demanded that he draw his gun. "Mistakes are made."  
  
"Then yours was to trust Nicholas," Chapel snapped, beginning the battle between the pair by circling Vash warily. Sure that he was going to win the fight, though not a shot had been fired, the priest added, "He was sent to kill you. Did you know that?"  
  
Confusion crept into Vash's features, as he counter-circled the Gung-Ho Gun. Had Nick been sent to kill him? It would explain the morning's events if it were true... Then realization swept over Vash; this was an elaborate lie... an attempt to make him falter. And for a moment it had almost worked. Smiling faintly, The Stampede responded, "Wolfwood? Kill me? I doubt it. You're just trying to confuse me."  
  
The shots started now - two, aimed at the red-clad gunman's chest, both of which were expertly dodged. "You're a good as they say, Vash the Stampede... but I'm not trying to confuse you. What I say is merely a warning, and what I will say next is a part of that warning: Wolfwood is one of us. A Gung-Ho Gun."  
  
Vash froze in his tracks, caught off-guard by both the statement itself and the undying conviction in his opponent's eyes. Wolfwood? A Gung-Ho Gun? The idea had never occurred to the gunman, but now that it had been said, it made almost perfect sense. The battle this morning, Wolfwood knowing where to find the one firing at them, and now Chapel telling him that he had trained his companion. It made sense. "G-Gung-Ho Gun..." Vash stammered, softly. Truth or not, it was still a shock.  
  
"Hai," Chapel confirmed, letting a spray of bullets from his twin guns loose in Vash's general direction. As the priest had hoped, his opponent reacted slowly still in shock from the news, and although The Stampede managed to dodge some of the projectiles half a dozen or so caught him in the chest and left shoulder.  
  
Biting back a noise of pain, Vash reached for the six-shooter at his side. His grip closing around it, the red-clad gunman crouched and pushed his yellow sunglasses father up on his face with his free hand, awaiting another attack from his enemy. When that did happen, Vash would take the opportunity to disarm his opponent with a quick shot or two. Moments later, Vash saw his chance and took it, and before long Vash had Chapel on the ground, unharmed but disarmed.  
  
"Leave with your life now, Chapel the Evergreen. Leave, and be true to your God by killing no one else." Turning his back on the priest, Vash moved towards the door, about to head off to find his own man of the cloth. But he was never going to make it out the door, because the second the spiky-haired male turned, the leader of the Gung-Ho Guns - Legato Bluesummers - slipped into the defeated Chapel's psyche, and grabbed the priest's guns. Without mercy, the possessed man pumped the red-clad gunman full of lead. And it was apparent, as Vash hit the ground that he was dead.  
  
"You should have killed him yourself," a voice called from the doorway, and Chapel tore his large red eyes away from Vash's fallen body to see the one who had actually killed The Stampede standing there. Shrugging faintly, Legato approached the body, and stared for a moment. It was a pity that Knives had ordered the death of his own brother - after all, Vash had been a perfect being, just like the blue-haired man's master. But still an order from Him was an order.  
  
Withdrawing a gun from within the folds of his strange attire, the telepath sneered at the weapon. He hated guns, preferring to rely on his mind as his only weapon, but in this case his thoughts weren't going to do the trick. Aiming the weapon at the fallen gunman's right arm, Bluesummers fired several times, severing the limb from Vash's body. Then, tucking the weapon back into his outfit, he turned to the priest. "Take the body back to the Master... and be extremely alert. If His brother isn't quite dead yet, I don't want you botching this by being caught off guard."  
  
Chapel nodded solemnly. "And what are you going to do?"  
  
"What the Master ordered me to, which is no business of yours," the golden-eyed male snapped, as he bent down to pick up the severed arm from the ground. "If you're feeling bold, you can ask Him when you get back to headquarters, and if He feels you are fit to have His infinite wisdom He can tell you. But I will not. Now go."  
  
Again the Gung-Ho Gun nodded, and without further questions, he lifted The Stampede's body onto his shoulders, and departed. Meanwhile, Legato remained in the forlorn bar, a cruel smile on his face. Nicholas Wolfwood was about to find himself tempted by the master of manipulation himself.  



	3. Manipulation and Tears

Ten Guns, Two Roses  
Chapter 2 - Manipulation and Tears  
Author's Notes: Excuse the shortness of this chapter. Not only was it written in a hurry, it was written while I had writer's block. So, I guess the point of this rant is… dun kill me for it not being up to par! Oh, and while I'm ranting… please check out this site - http://www.neoagent.net/trigun/   
  
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"Christ," Wolfwood muttered, as he reached into his blazer's pocket and withdrew a cigarette. Staring down at the corpse of Kaine the Longshot - who had neatly shot himself in the head when the dark-haired priest had gotten close - Nick wondered how his partner had faired against his uncle.   
  
* I'm sure he did fine, * he told himself, as he popped the cancer stick he had found into his mouth and lit it. * After all, he's not me. If I woulda gone up against Chapel... * The though trailed off into mental silence as the priest refused to consider what would have happened. Or at least tried to refuse... but it didn't work. Nick knew that if he had faced his uncle, he would have been dead, or perhaps worse... after all, he had never been as fast or as strong as Chapel.  
  
A small frown coming to his lips, Wolfwood returned to the Jeep he had 'borrowed' and taken out to the desert in search of the Gung-Ho Gun who had been shooting at them. A moment of relative silence passed as the priest examined the patterns Kaine's gun had drawn in the side of the desert vehicle. Then, deeming the Jeep safe to drive, the dark-haired male slipped behind the wheel and sped back to town, stopping only when he had made it to the bar he had left Vash in.  
  
Hopping out the car as easily as he had gotten into it, Nick entered the bar, and immediately noticed something was wrong. Ok, so it was really a 'noticing something was wrong' it was more a 'Nicholas D. Wolfwood gut feeling'... but none the less, something wasn't right. Peering into the gloom that was the empty bar, the priest's hands flew to the Cross Punisher. He wasn't about to use it just yet... but just in case.  
  
"Tongari?" Wolfwood called into the gloom.  
  
"Tongari?" a voice that was unmistakably Legato's echoed. "You'd gotten close enough to Vash the Stampede to make fun of his hair style?"  
  
Fighting down the urge to whip his cross-shaped weapon, Wolfwood tried to act coolly. Legato probably didn't know that he couldn't bring himself to kill Vash, and he could play that off if he acted correctly. "Isn't it always a good idea to get close to one's victims?" the priest asked, the cigarette between his lips almost falling from its perch as he spoke. "Then they never know what hits 'em."  
  
"Interesting," the blue-haired male replied coolly, stepping out of the darkness and into the partial light that streamed into the forgotten bar through the doors. "I suppose since your tactic worked well, I can't fault it."  
  
* Worked well? The hell is he talking about? * Wolfwood silently demanded to no one.  
  
And as if reading his thoughts - perhaps he was - Legato replied, "Didn't you know? Since you 'got close' to Vash, and failed to tell him you were a member of the Gung-Ho Guns, Chapel was able to surprise Vash and kill him." Folding his arms in front of him, a smile found its way to the telepath's face. "The Master is most pleased."   
  
"Pleased?" the priest asked vacantly. He had heard Legato, but any semblance of comprehension had faded like dew in the morning's first rays when the blue-haired male had told him Vash had been killed. It couldn't be true, it couldn't! Vash wouldn't allow himself to be killed so easily. But despite all the denying Wolfwood tried to do, what Legato showed him next said it all.  
  
"Yes, very pleased. In fact, He left you a gift to show His gratitude." Not waiting for a response from the black-clad man, the telepath reached back into the gloom of the bar, and returned with Vash's arm. Thrusting it in Wolfwood's direction, Legato bit back a malicious smile. Yes, Knives had ordered him to give the other Angel Arm to Wolfwood... and yes, it was a dangerous move, should the priest ever realize the significance of the limb. But Knives had told the telepath that neither would happen, because Nick would break first at the thought of having to carry a piece of his friend around with him.   
  
In the moment he saw the arm, Wolfwood almost did. Not only had it been confirmed that his friend was dead in the most brutal of ways possible, but now he had to carry around a constant reminder? It was enough to make the priest sick.  
  
Noting Wolfwood's sickly color, and the waves of melancholy emotions that flowed freely from him, Legato continued to grin. "Take it," the telepath hissed. And despite his body's protests, the blue-haired male forced Wolfwood to wrap his hands around the severed limb. "Good. Now, I will be in touch with you for your payment shortly." Pushing past the priest, Legato allowed himself to be far gone before he relinquished control of the Wolfwood's body.  
  
And as his body came back into his own control, Nick found himself doing two things he didn't think was possible in his case. He cried, clutching Vash's severed limb to his chest, and he swore to whatever Gods were listening that he would get revenge on Knives Millions. Even if it cost his own life.  



	4. Meeting

Ten Guns, Two Roses  
Chapter 3 - Meeting  
Author's Note: Yikes. These things seem to get shorter, and shorter every time, ne? Forgive me. They'll go back to being a constant length eventually... and in fact, the only reason this one is so short, is because I'm only now getting my inspiration for the fic back. Anyway, read, review, and enjoy. And expect a new chapter in the next week or so. ^_^  
  
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Darkness and hate were two things Legato Bluesummers knew well, and as he knelt before his master, he found no exception. Even though His brother had been defeated and nothing stood in his Master's way any longer, hate - * No, anger, * the telepath corrected himself - still eminated from his leader. And darkness? Well, that was a given in Millions Knives' lair - the almost white-haired male had always perferred darkness - as well as in the telepath's life... but still, if the Master wasn't happy, neither was Legato. So as he knelt before Knives, the golden-eyed telepath beat himself up with mental jeers, knowing that his Master's negative emotions were because of something he had done.  
  
"Did you give the priest our present, Legato?" the telepath's master demanded, attempting to sound calm and cool.  
  
Head nearly touching the ground, Legato nodded. "Hai Master, it was done."  
  
"Good." There was a moment of silence and then Knives spoke again, "Do you think it will be enough to break the priest?"  
  
Legato said nothing for several seconds, as mild fear crept into him. Truthfully, the telepath didn't think that would be enough to destroy Wolfwood from the inside out... but he wasn't quite sure he wanted to tell Knives that. After all, that might make Him unhappy, and when He was unhappy, Legato was unhappy. But he couldn't lie to Knives either - He was the telepath's boss... no, his God, and one didn't just lie to someone of that status. So what did he do? Legato decided on telling the truth.  
  
"No."  
  
"Hmm... No?" Eyes cold as ice and sharp as razors, Knives gazed at the closest person he would ever have to a right-hand man and frowned. "Can you tell me what you think -will- break him? After all, the traitor... and then all of humanity... must pay."  
  
"If we send one of the surviving Gung-Ho Guns - someone he trusts - to work on wearing his mentality away piece by piece, the plan may work. But it has to be the one person who he trusted almost as much as Vash the Stampede."  
  
Knives knew very well who Legato was talking about, but he decided to humor the telepath. "Who is?"  
  
"Midvalley the Hornfreak."  
  
"Ah, Hornfreak," the blonde-haired plant replied. Both males knew that before Wolfwood had been assigned to what had become known as 'The Stapmede' project, the pair were very close. In fact, it was well know by all the Gung-Ho Guns - and their master - that the pair worked together amazingly, and then afterwards they retired to something they could both enjoy. Wine and women... or more specifically, beer and cheap prostitutes. So it was true that Midvalley could handle Wolfwood, but did he possess the ability to do it without rousing the priest's suspicions? "And excellent choice, but do you think he can do it with subtly?"  
  
A cruel smile lit Legato's features. "He'll get under the skin of the priest so masterfully, that we'll wonder who's side he's really on until Hornfreak destroys him."  
  
"You'd better hope so, Legato." 


	5. A Few Lies Between Friends

Ten Guns, Two Roses   
Chapter 4 - A Few Lies Between Friends   
Author's Note: Woo! An apperance - and probably the only - made by the Insurance Girls. And yeah, this may sound like another excuse, but I wrote half of this at a marching band competition, so if it sucks don't mind me. Oh, and thanks to the elf who kissed me at the Rennasance Faire for inspiration... ok, not really, but I just wanted to mention that I got kissed by an elf. ^_^*   
  
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Delicate fingers, pale and perfect like a China doll's, flew over the typewriter's silver keys with praticed grace. And with all the reports she had written in the last few months, pratice was something Meryl Stryfe had plenty of time for. After all, she reported to Bernadelli's once a week, even after the survellience of Vash the Stampede had been canceled. Why she kept writing them, even Meryl herself couldn't explain, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. So here she was now, tying away like a madwoman.   
  
"Senpai?"   
  
The tell-tale clicks of Meryl writing stopped suddenly, as she turned to the sound of the voice. A small frown found her features as she caught sight of her partner - Millie Thompson - standing in the doorway. Sighing faintly, the petite dark-haired woman responded, "Hai? What is it Millie? I'm working on a report."   
  
The taller of the two insurance women stared blankly at her fingertips as she pressed their tips together in childlike worry. "The second sun has almost set, and neither Vash-san nor Mr. Priest are back yet. Aren't you worried about them?"   
  
"Worried?" Meryl echoed with a shrug. "Not really. Vash-san and Wolfwood-san are both grown men - even though they often don't act like it - and I have no doubt they can take care of themselves. Besides, they've come back after sunset before. They're probably out getting drunk."   
  
An uneasy silence followed Meryl's statement, and then Millie replied, "But not when fighting a Gung-Ho Gun."   
  
And as the words registered in Meryl's head, cold fear settled in the base of her spine. What if Wolfwood and Vash were hurt? Or worse yet, dead? What then? Her teeth sinking into her lower lip in newfound worry, the dark-haired woman prayed they returned home soon. Oh, they'd get a line of shit for worrying her when they got home... but at least then she'd know they were safe...   
  
*   
  
Three hours after sundown, Wolfwood returned to the hotel in which he, Vash, and the Insurance Girla had rooms. In those three hours, Nick had managed to get his motorcycle to work again. He had also hidden Legato's 'present' among his baggage so the girls wouldn't find it, and speaking of the girls, he had come up with the perfect story to tell them. After all, he couldn't just walk in casually and tell them Vash had been killed... especially not when he was out for blood. And he would have his revenge, but it would have to wait until he talked to Meryl and Millie and gotten himself nice and drunk - the latter he had considered several times since the golden-eyed telepath had left him alone.   
  
Reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer, Wolfwood withdrew a cigarette and stuffed it into his mouth. He hesitated for a second as he thought, and then his hand went back into his pocket and this time, the priest removed a match. Striking it on the heel of his shitkicker boots, the dark-haired male lit his cancer stick and dropped the expended match on the ground. Taking a few quick pufs off of the cigarette to calm his nerves, Wolfwood entered the hotel and found exactly what he was expecting.   
  
The Insurance Girls were sitting on a bench in the lobby, their eyes locked on the door with unfathomable worry. Meryl looked like she had been crying, and Millie appeared as though she was close to tears herself. As Wolfwood entered the hotel, two pairs of eyes - on crystal blue, the other almost gray - fell upon him. And the worry the priest had seen in their eyes only seconds before transmuted into anger.   
  
"Where the -hell- have you been?" the shorter of the pair demanded, standing sharply and storming over to him.   
  
Millie followed feet behind, stopping only when she made it to her partner. "And where's Vash-san?"   
  
The words bit into Wolfwood like a knife, reminding him of the fresh wound he had tried to block out of his mind, but now was not the time to show his sorrow. So instead, the priest raised his hands above him in surrender and forced one of his legendary smiles. "Hey... hey girls, no need to worry."   
  
"Well, we were," Meryl exploded, stamping one foot like a child, "and where's Vash-san?"   
  
"Pfft... I'm offended. You ask about Tongari before you ask about me? Well, now I see where your priorities really lie." Offering Millie a wink, he took another puff off of his cancer stick, and continued, "But if you really must know, he's moved on."   
  
"Moved on?"   
  
"Yeah - he said something about wanting to check out a lead he had on his brother in the next town. Poor guy's really bent on finding Knives." As if to emphasize his point Wolfwood shook his head, "Oh well. Anyway, tongari wants me to meet him there in a couple of days - but he doesn't want the two of you tagging along."   
  
"What? If that man thinks he can get away so easilly...! Ooh...!"   
  
"Calm down Meryl, the man's got his reasons."   
  
"Which are?"   
  
"Something about this being too dangerous." A shrug. "You know him, he doesn't want to see anyone die."   
  
Millie piped up from her momentary silence, "So then why does he want you to come along?"   
  
And Wolfwood cursed inwardly. For some reason, Millie had this ability to read him like a book when he tried his best to lie, and he hated it. Especially in situations like this. And when it did come to this, it was no good to keep lying, because Millie - like a small child - knew when she was being lied to. Now if you tried to incorperate the truth, or something you didn't know was an obvious lie, that often worked better. So it was time for a few grains of truth. "Dunno. Maybe cause there's usually two Gung-Ho Guns, and Vash doesn't want to be without back up if he faces any more of them... or his brother."   
  
The taller of the two Insurance Girls seemed satisfied, but Meryl did not. "Well, he's still not keeping us from coming along!"   
  
"I figured you'd say that, and I've got a plan. I'll take you with me when I go to meet up with Tongari, but you'll have to stay out of sight. I doubt he'd be too happy if he saw the pair of you tagging along." Sure, he had no intention of bringing the girls along - this was something he had to do on his own - but at least if he promised to let the pair come with him, he could get Meryl to leave him alone. "Fair enough?"   
  
"Hai," she replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a report to finish." Wheeling on her heels, the shorter of the two females stormed up the stairs behind them without further comments. But Millie remained.   
  
"I'd better go too, Mr. Priest," she said simply. And if Wolfwood hadn't been trained to read people's expressions, he would have believed that she accepted his answer, but her eyes told him otherwise. Her eyes told him that she knew it was possible that he wouldn't return... and that he wasn't really meeting up with Vash, but his intentions were for the best.   
  
Sighing faintly, Wolfwood offered a half-hearted, "Yeah, see you later big girl," before exiting the hotel altogether. Now it was time to go out and get drunk, and then get even.   
  
*   
  
"Bring me another one bartender," the priest slurred, his eyes locked on one of the dozens of glasses that sat before him. In the last hour or so, he had gotten drunk beyond belief, and the bartender had asked him to stop... but when Wolfwood had shown him his gun and his double dollars, he complied. So, this time the bartender brought the drink without hesitation, and set it down before the black-clad male, scooping up the money offered and shuffling off to take care of other customers.   
  
Somewhat glad to be alone, Wolfwood raised the glass to his lips and took a sip of the bitter liquid. Then, lowering it from his lips, he gazed at the drink in drunken near-stupor as he considered the days events. Vash had died because of him... because he had been too much of a coward to go face Chapel himself. A bitter smile - if there was a land where cowards lived, he was the king. Raising his drink above his head, he started to make a toast to his stupidity and cowardice, and then stopped as the faint scent of jasmine found his nostrils.   
  
The glass containing his amber-colored drink lowered slighly. Funny, only one person he knew smelled like that, and that was - "Dun even think about it, Nick. The Gung-Ho's don't care about you anymore, so don't even think about it. He wouldn't be here, unless of course Vash had survived... But we both know that wouldn't happen."   
  
Returning the glass to its place above his head, the priest began once again with his half-hearted toast. "To the biggest coward in the world." Then bringing the alcohol to his lips, he drank deeply. Coward, failure, idiot - that was Nicholas D. Wolfwood to a 'T' now... and if the jasmine-smelling other he had convinced himself wasn't there -was- indeed there, what would he think of the priest now?   
  
"Coward, Chapel? Since when have you been a coward?" Oh, shit... Wolfwood hadn't been dreaming - he was there, standing behind him, with those soulful brown eyes locked on his back.   
  
Midvalley the Hornfreak was there.


	6. Hornfreak

Ten Guns, Two Roses  
Chapter 5 - Hornfreak  
Author's Note: Well, what do you think thus far? Please lemme know by giving me a review. ::cute eyes:: C'mmon.... I won't be offended if it's a bad review... just let me know that people are actually reading this fic, and I'm not writing it for no reason.  
  
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Wolfwod didn't answer. He couldn't. Not only was the last person he wanted to see in his one moment of weakness there, but Midvalley mocked him somehow by calling him Chapel. As if reaffirming that Nick was a monster who let his best friend die alone. And so, the dark-haired male continued to nurse his drink, all the while ignoring Midvalley. And the sax player noticed this. Looking somewhat put out that his former friend hadn't answered, Midvalley leaned on a section of the bar next to Wolfwood and stared at him.   
  
A frown crossed the Gung-Ho Gun's lips, and then he spoke, "C'mmon Chapel... at least acknowledge I'm here."  
  
"S'Nick," the priest drawled, his winter-gray eyes rolling up slowly to meet Midvalley's. If there was one thing he wanted right now, it was to denounce any ties he had to the group of people that had killed his best friend. And so he wasn't about to let the dark-haired sax player call him by his Gung-Ho Gun name...  
  
Midvalley, however, didn't seem to care. "I like Chapel better," he replied simply, sitting down on a rickety stool that stood next to Wolfwood's.  
  
"Fuck -off-, Midvalley," the dark-haired priest snarled in a low, menacing voice as he stood suddenly. He didn't need this... he didn't need someone he really didn't want to see sitting down next to him, all the while pretending that it was alright... and calling him by a name he despised. Maybe if the sax player had shown up before he had let Vash run off and get killed, he would have allowed him to call him Chapel. But not now - not with the burden he was carrying. Not when he knew somehow that he was supposed to die back there, not Vash.  
  
And this outburst seemed to piss Midvalley off somehow. "Look, Chapel - Nick - what the hell ever you want to be called. I didn't come here to take this shit."  
  
* Good, then maybe you'll leave before I have to, * Wolfwood though bitterly, as he reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette as he waited for Midvalley to leave. When the sax player didn't move, the dark-haired priest moved to instead, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Wolfwood... just hear me out, ok?" Midvalley asked, his voice suddenly soft again. And had the priest been looking, he would have seen a certian softness to his companion's eyes... something that hadn't been there for as long as Nick could remember. Something like fear... and pleading.  
  
"Make it quick."  
  
Midvalley inhaled sharply and held the breath in for a moment before letting it out. "I'm here because I want to talk to you about something," he said finally, and Wolfwood grunted making it clear that he was listening. "I..." A pause. "I want to get out of the Gung-Ho Guns." And as the sylables fell from Midvalley's lips, the priest's eyes flew to his face searching for signs of deception. And he found none.  
  
"You want out?" Wolfwood demanded, still trying to decide whether or not he thought the sax player was sincere.  
  
A nod, and Midvalley replied a little defensively, "Yeah, is there something wrong with that?"  
  
"I guess not."   
  
"And I came here, hoping to find a friend. I mean, I know you Cha - Wolfwood. I know that you're not with the Gung-Ho's anymore... I don't think Legato knows - he's not to keen when it comes to those sort of things - but he doesn't know you like I do. So, I came here hoping you could impart whatever small knowledge you used to get out of the group to me."  
  
Wolfwood shrugged, and replied, "There is no knowledge." And at this the sax player looked a little put out, but the priest quickly added, "But you've got a friend in me, Midvalley - I won't let another one of my best friends kick the bucket because of me."  
  
Now confusion flooded the dark-haired other's features. "What'dya mean?"  
  
Grief smashed into the priest's chest like a blow from a sledgehammer. "Vash's dead."  
  
"Knives, right?" Wolfwood nodded. "I'll help you get him, Nick... so help me God." 


	7. Truth in all the Lies

Ten Guns, Two Roses  
Chapter 6 - Truth in all the Lies  
Author's Note: You know, I've realized that the longer I go on with this fic, the more it sucks. Damn it! Why can't I write consistently? And with good grammar? Yeargh! ::sweatdrops:: Oh, well... at least I know the clever use of symbolism... I wonder if you'll pick up on it too. Anyway, please read it even if it does suck? Thanks. And don't forget to write a review too.  
  
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Two and a half weeks later, Midvalley and Wolfwood entered the town the dark-haired priest had been told to tell Vash his brother was in. Neither man knew if it was true or only a trap, but it had been the best lead either of them could have come up with, so they had gone. So they had bought a couple of second hand motorcycles which were, in Wolfwood's opinion, 'not even close to being as nice as Angelina was'. But as good as the priest's former motorcycle or not, they had gotten the two to Berd, and that was all that mattered. Now, there was the little matter of confronting Knives... and Nick had already decided that it would be best to wait until the morning after they had both gotten a good night's sleep. So now they were both sitting at a table in the two-man room they had rented, playing a game of chess to kill the time - Wolfwood on the white side, Midvalley on the black.  
  
"Your move," the black-clad priest said absently, his eyes glued to the board in near exhaustion.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Midvalley mumbled back. He wasn't quite as tired as Nick, but chess had never been his thing, and he was getting bored with losing (which he was) rather quickly. Reaching for one of the few pawns he had left, he pushed it forward so now it rested on the seventh square; one more and he would have his queen back.  
  
Wolfwood saw this and moved his own bishop to capture the pawn, and suddenly the dark-haired sax player was fighting back a temper tantrum. But instead of exploding he said simply, "Look, Nick... I'm tired. Think we can turn in?"  
  
"I was thinking the same thing," the priest admitted.  
  
Midvalley nodded, pushing his chair back from the table he had been sitting at so he could stand up. Moving towards the bed he had claimed as his own, he laid down on it and watched his companion flop onto the room's other single bed. There was silence between both men for a moment, and then the dark-haired sax player heard the faint beginnings of a snore coming from Nick's bed. Offering a wistful smile to no one at the thought that Wolfwood could fall asleep so easily knowing full well what the morning would bring, the sax player stared at the ceiling, wide awake.  
  
Toying with the buttons on his shirt, he considered sneaking down to get a drink to ease his mind before turning in for real. It wasn't like Nick would miss him, and if he could get to sleep after a whiskey or two he'd be more levelheaded in the morning. A nod to himself and Midvalley was up, moving towards the door that would lead him down to the bar on the first floor.  
  
*  
  
"Another whiskey," the dark-haired sax player said softly, resting his arms on the relatively clean bartop. The drink he had just ordered would be his second of the night and his last, or so he swore. Reaching for the drink as it was brought to him, Midvalley took a couple of sips before putting it down. True, you weren't supposed to sip hard liquor... but the dark-haired male really didn't care what most people did. He was his own person. He did what he wanted... not what others expected...  
  
* Is that so, Midvalley-kun? *  
  
Chocolate-colored eyes widened in terror. That was Legato's voice, and that meant only one thing. The blue-haired telepath was somewhere near-by. Glancing over his shoulder, Midvalley attempted to find the human-hater in the thinning crowd of people. And when the sax-player couldn't find him, his uneasiness rose. Where was Legato?  
  
* Outside. By the door. *  
  
Midvalley stood and moved towards the door, responding to the unspoken command from his superior. Pushing the swinging doors aside, he stepped out into the cool desert night and found the telepath right where he said he would be. The golden-eyed male was leaning against the wall of the bar, his eyes closed but a cold smirk on his face. For a moment neither male moved, the sax player too wrapped up in fear and the telepath engrossed by something else. And then Legato pushed himself away from the wall and moved to stand before the Gung-Ho Gun.  
  
"Knives-sama wonders why you haven't been reporting on a regular basis."  
  
Pushing down the fear and putting on a cool facade, Midvalley raised his mental defenses so Legato couldn't glean too much from him. When you lived around someone with powers like the golden-eyed male's for long enough, you learned to block some of their influence. "Don't you think Chapel would notice if I snuck away every night to meet with you?"  
  
"Perhaps, but there are other ways of getting in touch," Legato replied, malice shining in his eyes. Then, he continued, "Our master forgives you this time. Right now He is more interested in how the deception of the traitor goes."  
  
"Not well," Midvalley began, but that was all the farther he got before pain exploded in the base of his neck. Falling to his knees, the sax player clutched the back of his head knowing exactly what was going on. Knives was not pleased with his answer, so Legato was making him pay.  
  
"That is -not- acceptable," Legato hissed, confirming the dark-haired male's suspicions. "He must believe you genuinely wish to help him so that when the time comes to betray him, he will destroy himself knowing that his two best friends have abandoned him. A fitting punishment for betraying Him."  
  
Midvalley fought back a whimper as the pain intensified. "If you'll give me a few more days, I'm sure I can get him to trust me fully."  
  
"A few more days," Legato repeated, and suddenly the agony the sax player was in stopped. "That's all you have before he destroys you and Chapel, Hornfreak." His white jacket whipping around his as he turned, the telepath glanced over his shoulder, "Don't fail." And then Legato was gone, slipping back into whatever darkness he had come from.  
  
Midvalley on the other hand continued to sit on his knees, leaning into the ground as he remembered the pain. Nothing was worth this. Not the betrayal of a good friend. Not his life. So maybe he really did want out of the Gung-Ho Guns after all. And maybe when he got Nick to trust him again, it wouldn't be some sick charade... it'd be because he needed a friend on the outside.  
  
Funny how what he thought was a lie was turning out to be the truth. 


End file.
